


~[The Smallest Change]~ {Call of Duty: Modern Warfare}

by QuietAlias



Category: Call of Duty, modern warfare
Genre: Call of Duty - Freeform, F/M, Fanfiction, Original Character(s), Roach, different POV, john price - Freeform, modern warfare - Freeform, nikolai - Freeform, simon "Ghost" riley - Freeform, simon riley - Freeform, soap mactavish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4197837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietAlias/pseuds/QuietAlias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then a sickening thing happens. We hear General Shepherd’s Magnum go off over the net, next hearing Whiskey scream out ‘No’! All five of us freeze, unsure if the others heard it as they did. But they get confirmed, “Ghost! This is Price! Shepherd’s men are trying to take us out! Don’t trust Shepherd! I repeat, do not trust Shepherd!” This wasn’t happening. </p>
<p>===<br/>What do you do when the whole world thinks that you're a traitor? When your own men, the people you fought beside want you dead? What do you do when you're separated from the people you trusted the most? Your team broken, unevenly. </p>
<p>You deal with it and fight from day to day.</p>
<p>One of the biggest lessons I, Cassandra Esmeralda MacMillian, will ever learn. No matter how much it hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End.

A tap on my shoulder makes me turn to look into the deepest of harlequin green eyes, holding a pint of worry under the façade of an unmovable man. I rest the tip of my gun on the windowsill, watching him switch his mic off. He then reaches to turn off mine. “Alias,” his voice shakes very lightly, a slight Tennessee accent dripping from his words. He clears his throat, “I have a really bad feeling about this.”

My eyebrows dip; he has every reason to have a bad feeling. We are invading Makarov’s safe house that _was_ guarded like a fortress. However, the fortress didn’t stand a chance against the One-Four-One. Knowing that this many of their men died, Makarov, or whoever he left in charge of this area, would send triple the amount any minute. “That’s natural, Roach,” my hand grips his shoulder reassuringly.

“I don’t know… I don’t trust Shepherd. That look on his face, the way he speaks to Captain Price… He rubs me the wrong way.”

“He rubs _all_ of us the wrong way,” a slight smile sprawls onto my face, “we’ll get the DSM, get picked up and head back to base. Then, we’ll get ready for phase two.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

_“Patron is setting up the DSM; reinforcements are going to do anything and everything to keep us from leaving with the information. We get dug in and protect it at all costs. Roach, Alias, are you two secure up there?”_ Ghost’s smooth, British voice asks over the net.

I grip my thermal-sight RSASS tightly in my hands, “As secure as we’ll ever be,” I glance back to Roach setting up a claymore.

“Yeah, Ghost, just no one get chased back here to the room we’re in. We have a claymore protecting our six.”

_“Roger, mates. Let’s do this.”_

It’s a good five minutes before Archer starts barking over the net, _“Choppers approaching from the south-west!”_

Roach and I are covering the North and West flank, my scope inches from my right eye. His ACR with grenadier attachment facing the North, ready to unload a nice surprise from his launcher. We can hear Archer and his men’s snipers going off every other second, literally no moment of a sniper _not_ going off. Roach, Gary, he was right about this. I felt it too. A deep, uneasy feeling at the pit of my stomach. Much different from any other assignment I’ve had in my seven years in the service. I hope Price and Soap are all right.

“ _Reinforcements to the west!”_

I catch them all in the scope of my sniper, nice, glowing white silhouettes of enemies. Enemies ready to kill my brothers and I. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five._ Five soldiers now dust in the wind, extinguished before making it close to us. Another set of five bullets ring out, another five drop. Another, only three drop due to the tree line. They’re all burrowed in behind trees, waiting until I reload or look away. I’m not reloading until I fire five more times and I’m completely out. An RPG is aimed directly at us, but he gets a bullet straight through is forehead. Four left.

_“Reinforcements coming from the solar panels to the North!”_

Roach’s grenadier goes off, I hear a truck explode. What is that crazy boy doing? He reloads it, but doesn’t use it. Round after round of his ACR echo through our room, _thuds_ from his dropped magazines hitting the floor. “Don’t you hide from me, you son of a bitch.” He mutters under his breath as he reloads. Roach finds nothing more annoying than a hostile playing peek-a-boo with him. He unpins a grenade, cooks it for a moment and tosses it straight in the middle of three targets. All three go right down, his _“Sweet,”_ under his breath confirms it.

The tension is getting thick within the vicinity of the house; more hostiles just keep showing up. The claymore behind us goes off, prompting us to duck and turn away from our windows. A body lays in front of the door, Striker in hand. That would’ve torn through us, **right through us**. Another one comes in and I shoot him in the chest. The bullet wizzes in the air, making a small noise as it lands dead center of his chest. “Roach,” I look at him, “you watch the door, I’ll take care of the ones outside.”

He nods, “Yes, ma’am.”

I’m second in charge, I’m a Lieutenant, just as Ghost is, but Ghost is in charge of this OP. Roach falls in third, being a Sergeant and being in the main portion of our Task Force. Although, Roach doesn’t want to be in charge. Says he can’t take the pressure. I don’t blame him, it can be too much at times.

Another two of my bullets ring out afore I hear Roach struggling. Turning sharply on my heels, he’s got his gun pinned to his chest. An enemy pointing his M9 directly at his head. I shoot. I _miss_. All it did was make him move quickly, getting Roach enough leverage to push him off. The hostile falls to the floor after Ghost’s Desert Eagle rings through the air. “Thought you two were secure up here,” he lightly mocks.

“Thanks, you fucking dick.” Roach’s voice shakes again, “I almost die and you crack jokes.”

“Ladies,” I snap, “we are in the middle of something.”

Ghost takes the window previously occupied by Roach, “Comin’ up to serve beside you, Alias, while Roach _properly_ covers our six.”

Roach’s eyes roll as flips a desk over to pose as a barricade. These hostiles are swarming the building, but the DSM is done. “DSM is complete!” Scarecrow calls out.

“Patron and Whiskey, take the DSM to the LZ,” Ghost relays to them, “we’re kind of pinned up here.”

“Yes, sir!” Patron quickly grabs the DSM, taking off down the hill with Whiskey.

What were we going to do? We’d be pinned up here for ages with this many hostiles. Ammo wasn’t an issue, we had plenty of the enemy’s. Scarecrow and Ozone back up into our room, being chased out of the first floor. Ozone crouches next to Roach, helping him cover the door. Scarecrow takes the last window; it’s small and above the toilet in the bathroom. We can hear Whiskey giving orders to fire in the red smoke.

Then a sickening thing happens. We hear _General Shepherd’s Magnum_ go off over the net, next hearing Whiskey scream out ‘No’! All five of us freeze, unsure if the others heard it as they did. But they get confirmed, “ _Ghost! This is Price! Shepherd’s men are trying to take us out! Don’t trust Shepherd! I repeat, do_ not _trust Shepherd!”_ This wasn’t happening.

All five of us stare at each other for a moment, hearing the snipers still slaughtering the hostiles outside. Ghost glances out the window, “Oh, bollocks.”

“What?” Roach grips his gun tightly.

“Shepherd’s literally cleanin’ house,” he jerks his head toward the outside, “soldiers are comin’ to get our dog-tags, mates.”

“B-but, we’re alive,” Scarecrow doesn’t get the hint.

“He means,” I reload, “Shepherd’s soldiers are coming to slit our throats.”

Ghost motions to switch to our back up channel, only for this OP. _“Did you guys switch?”_ Archer’s voice echoes in.

“Yeah,” Ghost looks at us, “looks like we’re slottin’ our own.”

_“They’re approaching the house in black SUVs, do we end them?”_

“Everyone outside of this house is hostile, mate. Have at ‘em.”

We all watch as troops pile out of the vehicles and then hit the floor. Roach is looking at me, pulling his mask, only covers from the bridge of his nose down, off. “See? I knew there was something up!”

“Calm down, Roach,” I stand up straight.

“No, now we’re fucked!”

“I said shut it!” My voice booms through the room, making Roach’s eyebrows dip. I lean my sniper against the wall, “Any ideas, Ghost?”

“Soap and Price probably got cut off from us,” he pulls off his balaclava, exposing his disheveled, chocolate brown hair. “We’re stranded here.”

“No,” my finger juts toward the cars, “all of us, including Archer’s crew, could pile in those.”

“Then what?”

Clenching my hands, I try to think. What would my father do? There was nowhere we could run without running into Makarov’s men or Shepherd’s men. What are you supposed to do when your commander betrays you? They don’t train you for this. My father didn’t train me for this, either. We couldn’t stay here, they’d send more men to kill us. “There’s a house further up in the hills,” I look at them, “no inhabitants, we take down the ‘For Sale’ sign.”

“The realtor is bound to notice they made no money, Lieutenant MacMillian.” Ozone kicks at the floor, not making eye contact with me.

“If I’m right about what Shepherd’s about to do…” I trail off, “…That house will be their very last priority.”


	2. Settling In Before Removal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some commandeered luxury.

The back of the door hits the wall as Ghost kicks it in, a full-furnished house. Looked nice on the outside and even nicer on the inside. We all walk in, the air-conditioner makes Archer sigh as he drops the hood of his Ghillie suit. “Dear God,” he smiles, “so cool.”

Roach flips on a light, “Electricity.”

The knob on the sink squeaks as Scarecrow turns it, “Running water. This is nicer than the base.”

I sit down in a recliner far off in the corner, Ghost plopping down on the couch in front of me. His hands gripped his face as his elbows rested on his knees. He and I were in charge of these men. It shouldn’t be any different than usual, but this time we were protecting our friends against Makarov and Shepherd. Our once allies and the antagonist of our lives. We share a stare, knowing exactly how the other was feeling. “We need to get ahold of Soap and Price,” he mutters, “but there isn’t a way how.”

My eyes fall to the table, “They’ll be fine, I’ve known Price my whole life and I’ve known Soap for years. They can take care of themselves.”

“We should be right beside them, getting back at Shepherd for this shit.”

“Yes, yes we should,” I sigh, “but you and I need to focus on our priority.”

“Priority?”

Gesturing towards the men in the kitchen, “Making sure they don’t die.”

“Did you wankers find food?” Ghost stands up, I follow at his heels.

“Yeah!” Roach is stuffing his face full of chocolate chip cookies, “You sure this place doesn’t have anyone living here?”

“Too bad,” Archer is opening a soda, “ours now. We can just take it, let ‘em know what’s about to go down.”

“We can’t do that,” Scarecrow’s eyes narrow at him.

“Technically,” Ghost grabs an apple, “we can.”

“Really?”

“ _If_ someone does live here, we can claim that they’re too close to a hostile residence. So, for their safety, they’ll need to clear out.” I shuffle through the cabinets, “But there shouldn’t be anyone here.”

“Why is there food, then?”

Ghost picks up a piece of paper as he washes off his apple, “Ah, they’re on vacation for the next couple of months, something tells me they won’t be coming back.”

My hand pulls out a bag of potato chips, “Why a ‘For Sale’ sign, though?”

He shrugs, biting into his apple, “Dunno.”

Archer rolls out a map across the kitchen table, sipping from his drink. “The other two are about here,” he pointed towards Kandahar, Eastern Afghanistan, “that’s long way from us; they’re probably gone from that location by now.”

“Where else could they have gone?” Roach asks, sitting in a backwards chair.

I take a seat in front of Roach, “Where ever Shepherd went, but I don’t know where that would be.”

“Guess we’ll just have to wait…” Ghost looked at us, his eyes glancing towards the window.


	3. An Uncle's Memory.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barely escaping the Boneyard, the final two of the disavowed soldiers try to make sense of what there is to do. What happened to their teammates.

Soap rubs his face, dropping his silenced MPK5 beside him. They just _barely_ escaped Shepherd’s men in the Boneyard, only because Nikolai was there to save them. Again. I lean back against my chair, gripping my hat tightly in my right hand. Lowering my arm to my side, I look at the filthy thing. I’d never get rid of it. Cassidy got it for me on my birthday a few years back. It means the world to me, just as she does. I’m worried for her, beyond worried. Worried is being used for a lack of a better word! But, I know she’s fine. She’s a MacMillian, and Mac knew how to raise his little girl into a disciplined commanding officer. Not only that, she had Ghost by her side. Roach as well. Archer’s boys were covering them, but given none of them died… That only leaves a measly eight people standing by my niece. _Eight._

Lieutenant or not, Cassidy and Ghost never made Captain for a reason. They are the highest rank in that group, they are the officers. The officers in charge of protecting their small company. I know she can do it… doesn’t stop me from being concerned. I let out a heavy sigh as I notice Soap’s eyes looking to me. Now, it’s just me and this lad again. The closest thing I’ve ever had to a son. “So,” he finally breaks the silence, “what now? What about the others?” He can’t hide his own disquiet from me.

“We obviously can’t get a hold of them.” I sit up, “But they’re most likely fine…”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know Cassidy.”

“What if Shepherd—“

“Thinking like that isn’t going to help us, now is it?” Can’t believe what I’m hearing. This daft boy.

Soap gives me a look of defeat, “What’s our next move? Until we can get back to them, we need a next move. Most likely taking out Shepherd.”

“Thanks to Makarov, we now know where he’s hiding… Now, all we gotta do is get to him.”

“He has a bloody secret military with him, how do we get close?”

“By trusting me,” I shrug, “been in worse positions before.” My finger points to my left eye.

His hand shoots up to cover his scar, “Was your fault then too…” He had gotten that scar on the bridge, after the tanker blew. He’s had that ever since.

“I think it makes you look more distinguished.”

“I think you’re an asshole.”

“Hey,” I pull out a cigar, “this asshole has kept you alive.”

“And nearly killed me.”

“That too.”

Soap rolls his eyes at me as he pulled out his own cigar. The little bastard copied me there too. I don’t say anything, on account of me wanting to enjoy this bloody cancer stick before we land. _Cancer stick_. I chuckle to myself in my head, young Cassidy scolding her father. She just didn’t understand how smooth these things were, but she did learn. To her father’s distaste, that is. Since she began smoking them, he’s tried to quit. Harder than it sounds.

But Soap had his point, it was going to be tough getting to that cocksucker. Shadow Company did not fuck about. It was just us. Nikolai couldn’t handle a gun any better than he can drive a pave-low, sure, but the asshole didn’t have a lick of patience. We’d be made before even getting our feet on the ground. That, I can know. This had to be a stealthy mission, or else we’ll never make it. Of course, never have anything without a plan B. This would need a plan B.

I know Nikolai would drop us off, but I don’t think he should be coming with us. Should probably just leave us and never look back. What are we going to do? We’re disavowed. The whole world thinks we’re these bad men that betrayed what they stood for. We never betrayed anything. We just worked harder to end this war than Shepherd or anyone else wanted to. I don’t think I could ever throw a plan B into this.

He drops his head and runs his hand across his head, towards his face. He’s worried and I understand that much. Soap and Cassidy had been together since… Well, a bit after the bridge. A bit after we lost Gaz. Griggs barely slipped out, apparently. I haven’t seen the yank since then. After Operation Kingfish, I didn’t see these two after I got captured and ended up in the Gulag. But even before that, I caught the two of them snoggin’ behind the armory. Like teenagers.

To my knowledge, it’s just been those two. They stuck with one another through all of the questions, through all of the stupid idiots on base. Wanting to know what happened on the bridge. Wanting to know how they’re alive and the other thirty or so of them died. Which I think they needed. Well, not so much as Cassidy – she’s gone through thinking that I was gone twice and that her father was gone once. Soap, though… I think he needed her with him. I don’t think he’d admit it.

No, Soap needed to be this big bad Captain to everyone. Didn’t even tell his nickname to anyone. Having to hide his weak spot for her, which he was bad at. Seven years they relied on each other, seven years they served together, seven years they’ve loved each other. Seems like a life time ago to me. Seems like it was forever ago when this muppet entered my unit.

Though, seeing Cassidy as she is now, a twenty-seven year old Lieutenant. Long reach from the five year old I met. Hiding behind her father’s leg, wearing this dark green dress and white tights. Mac always did dress her like a little girl. This navy blue bear, with snow white ears, paws and stomach tightly gripped in her hand. Along with what Mac called an untamable fire held up into pigtails. She was so pallid, not that her father was any darker, but he was a few shades darker. She looked up with me with those big, bright green eyes. God, that doesn’t even seem real to me anymore.

Oh, Mac… What is he going to do? He’s had to have heard something. Either Shepherd claiming they’re dead or that they’re in the same boat with us. Disavowed and dangerous. He’s going to be… well, Mac, about it. If he isn’t given a body, dog-tags, something from what would be his daughter’s corpse – he’d never believe it. As for if he was told we were _all_ disavowed, he’d believe there’d be a damn good reason for it. I really just hope she’s alright. That they’re all alright.

“Isn’t there anyway to reach them?” Soap broke the silence, looking dead at me.

I shake my head slowly, “Their coms have had to have been shut off by now. For the moment, though, we should focus on taking out Shepherd.”

“How can you focus on that when you don’t know if the rest of our team is alive?”

“Because Shepherd is the one person who will be able to tell us,” I spit sharply.

He looks down at the floor, knowing that I’m right. “I really hope they thought of something…”

“It’s the One-Four-One,” I try to smile, “They’ve thought of something.”


	4. Never in Charge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassidy and Ghost must take on the challenges and burden that their superiors once took on for them.

I glance up at the clock, running my hand through my hair yet again. It’s midnight, Cassidy and I are trying to work up a plan. The rest of the group are sleeping, something I would love to be doing right now. “Say they escaped, say they went after Shepherd – do you have any idea where he might’ve gone?”

She shakes her head, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “There are so many places he could’ve gone. All over the globe. No one will ever believe us, so he could’ve just gone back to the Afghanistan base.”

“Bollocks,” I slouch in the kitchen chair, “What are we going to do? We can’t be seen by anyone, because everyone wants to kill us. The one thing we had turned their backs on us because the yank General is an asshole. Our commanding officers are God knows where. It’s just you, me, Scarecrow, Ozone, the bug, Archer and Toad.

“There’s Kamarov…”

“Who?”

“A Russian loyalist, helped us on our pursuit of Zakhaev. Annoying, smelly motherfucker. But he did save Soap, Griggs and I.”

“Where is he?”

Cassidy scans over the map, “He and his men reside here at the moment,” I look at the map, Boranchi, Russia.

I sigh, “That’s like a hundred and twenty miles from us. We can’t exactly walk there and driving would take AGES.”

“I know we can’t, but that’s the only call we have.”

“Why can’t you get a hold of you dad?”

“I need to wait until all this cools down a little, they’re probably monitoring him. Waiting for one of us to contact him.”

“Then there’s no one?”

Cassidy crosses her arms, “Nikolai, but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be able to help.”

“Then?”

“The only person I know who wouldn’t buy this shit is a dedicated Marine who…” She sits up, like she just figured out the meaning to life.

“Who just what?”

“Who just learned how to piolet pave-lows, helis…”

“Call him!”

She stands up, shaking her head. I follow her as she walks out onto the porch. She rests her upper arms against the rail. “It’s not that easy.”

I take a place beside her, “Why not?”

“He’s still a soldier, Simon,” she looks at me, “hard to convince him to turn his back on his country, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know…”

“Not impossible, though.”

Looking over at her, it’s weird seeing her without a uniform. We walked down to town yesterday to get different clothes. Harder to spot. I’ve had to part with my balaclava for the time being, since it happens to draw attention. “You know, you’re kind of pretty with your hair not in a bun.”

A light smiles forms, “Thanks, kind of nice seeing you without that mask of yours.”

“Balaclava.”

“I know what it is.”

I smirk for a moment, thinking about the other two. I wonder if they’re okay, if they’re alive. If they killed Shepherd. They must have. Those two would’ve put that fucker down in a heartbeat. But I feel so weird without Soap being here. I don’t think we’ve ever been with Cassidy without him. She was with him when he started his task force. She was with him way before that. Now, seeing her without him… the kind of thing to make your stomach turn.

Scanning her over, I try to figure out what’s going on in her head. It must be like a bee hive in there, not knowing where Price is. More so where Soap is. She’s known those two longer than any of us, she’d know what they could’ve done. Something of a plan. “Do you think…”

Her eyes look over to me, “Do I think what?”

“What do you think they did?”

She lets out a heavy sigh as she rests her forehead on the railing. Sitting there for a moment, I’m left with silence. Except for that light wind blowing through. I look to her when she stands straight up again. “I know they went after Shepherd, there’s no way they didn’t, but…”

“But?” Those two are insane, but what?

“I honestly… I honestly don’t know if they’d leave alive.”

“What do you mean?”

Cassidy turns and walks back into the house. I follow after like a lost puppy, confused as to what she’s currently implying. She sits back down at the table, staring hard at the map. Almost waiting for it to tell her where they are. She sighs harder this time, “Price has always been a hardheaded dolt. Soap has always followed what he said. So, if they lead a suicide mission… they’re probably…” her eyes shoot to the clock, “gone.”

I can’t believe how mellow she is about this, “So, you think they’re dead? You’re okay with that?”

“Of course I’m not okay with it, you idiot.” Her voice is harsh as she stands up, “Honestly, I want to fucking murder every last thing I see. I want to scream and I want to cry, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

My eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t need to be such a bitch about it, but you can cry, y’know?”

“No, I can’t.” Her attention goes towards the stairs, “Neither of us can falter anymore. We have five other men to take care of. We need to be strong so they can survive.”

It dawns on me how right she is. She and I are the Lieutenants, not that means much anymore, but we have the most experience. We’re completely liable for their lives. Suddenly, it feels like gravity just grew on me at the though. I’ve been in charge before, hell, I was in charge of this op. Look what happened, though?  All the other times I’ve been in charge, things go so badly. Not at my own doing, of course, but I can’t control everything.

Cassidy walks towards the stairs, “We don’t have plan yet.” I whisper after her.

“I do,” with that, she disappears up the stairs. I stand in the living room, hearing the door close quietly behind her. I would’ve loved to know the plan too, but whatever. I’m tired, anyway.


	5. The Sickening Not-Truth.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soap and Price are so close, so close to finally ending Shepherd. So close to knowing what happened to the rest of their unit, but can you trust the words of a snake?

I roll over, water spewing from my mouth with every involuntary cough. Trying to gain my balance, I can’t see a bloody thing. Where’s Price? Where’s Shepherd? Where am I? I pull my knife from its scabbard, squinting to see if could see anything. I think I see flames in the distance. Staggering off, it hits me how exhausted I am. That drop must’ve taken whatever energy I had left, but I can’t stop now. Not when we’re this close.

One of the Shadow Company soldiers come crawling towards me, but faint and or die before getting within reaching distance. I can smell the fire now. The silhouette of the crashed pave-low being engulfed by flames catches my attention. As I approach it, I hear the clicking of an empty pistol. I don’t pay any attention to it once I see Shepherd try to make a run for it. Trying to keep up with him, I search where my pistol should be. I must’ve lost it in the drop. God damn it.

Shepherd leans against a broken down, wheel-less truck and just stares at me. I stare back, looking at this broken mess. This fucker who’s just as bad as Makarov. I spit some of the blood from my mouth, “What did you do?” My voice is nowhere near as strong as it usually is, but it is deeper and more gravelly.

He smirks, “What do you mean?”

“To the rest of my unit,” I sneer, “where are they?”

“Lieutenant Riley, Lieutenant MacMillian and Sergeant Sanderson are who you’re asking about, I assume.”

“You know damn well—“

“Last I heard of them, _Makarov’s_ men over ran them in the safe house. Probably POWs or dead. Most likely dead.”

Everything mutes as my rushing blood fills my ears, “No, they didn’t. They’re fine.”

“I don’t know, son,” his eyes scan over me, “sent a lot of people just to make sure.”

I lose my temper, “You son of a bitch!” I swing the knife at him, but he catches my arm. The next thing I know is my face is hitting the truck and I hit the floor.

Through my hazed vision, I see Shepherd remove his knife. _Plunge._ This sharp burning sensation spreads through my chest, the sudden realization of being stabbed clouding my head. “I lost fifty thousand men in the blink of an eye and the world just fucking watched. Tomorrow, there will be no shortage of volunteers, no shortages of patriots. I know you and the rest of your miserable unit understand.” Now I’m staring down a revolver.

The shot rings out, but it doesn’t hit me. Price, you old man, thank God. I watch as fight between the two ensues, catching a glimpse of the gun in my peripheral. Weakly, I crawl towards it. Just to put an end to this once and for all. I feel the handle on the tip of my middle finger, before I take a boot to the face…

My vision fades in and out. I faintly hear the other members talking in the back of my head, arguing about something. I reach to help Price, but I can’t bloody move. The sun hits the blade protruding from my chest just right, catching my attention. I know what I need to do. I know what needs to be done. For the better.

I grip the handle in my hand tightly, beginning to remove it from my sternum. The burning sensation builds as this new sharp pain throbs through my being. It’s becoming harder to breathe, but I need to do this. I need to do this for the better. My other hand grips it as well, I think I’m sweating blood by now. The burning goes away as soon as the knife leaves my being, but I feel the crimson flow warming my skin under my armor and clothing. “Oi… Suzy.”

Just as Shepherd looks up, the knife is sent as a care-package to him. It all over when the knife pierces his eye and he falls over. We did it. We killed Shepherd, but at what cost. My mind begins to flip back to the conversation we had before this. Ghost, Roach… Cassidy… they’re gone. They’re dead. My mind begins to unravel at the knowledge the Cassidy, the woman I love more than life itself, is gone. Two of my closest friends, gone. This doesn’t feel real.

Price pushes Shepherd off of him, “Soap!” He crawls over to me. I slightly watch as he makes a crude bandage to cover up the massive abrasion in my chest. I’m trying to tell him what Shepherd told me, muttering incoherent gibberish. “You’re going to be fine, just hold on.”

More panic flows through my being as an A-H6 lands a bit away from us, a single figure making his way. “I thought I told you this was a one way trip?” Price stands me up.

“Looks like it still is,” I’ve never been so happy to hear Nikolai’s voice in my life.

“We need to get Soap out of here.”

“Da,” he helps me in, “I know a place.”

I lay in the back as Price puts more pressure on my wound, “C-Cass…”

“She’s fine Soap, just focus on staying awake.”

“Ghost… Roach… they’re gone.”

Price looks back at me, “They’re fine, Soap.”

Tears sting at my eyes, “N-no… Shepherd… Shepherd had them killed.”

I can’t really make out Price’s face, but he doesn’t say anything back to me. I can slightly see Nikolai look back for a moment, but he doesn’t say anything either. Consciousness slips in and out for however long we’re in the air. I’m jolted back awake when I’m place on the gurney, but I’m still fading in and out. Memories flash before my eyes. Price. Gaz. Griggs. Ghost. Roach. Cassidy… they’re all gone… Except for Price. My mind is rejecting the idea.

It goes black for me again, Nikolai shocks me and breathing becomes slightly easier. As the doctor works on me, I see Cassidy standing at the foot of the bed. Like when we got back from the bridge. Her arm is broken, face beat up. “Cassie…” I reach my hand for hers.

“What is he doing?” Nikolai asks.

“Hallucinating from the amount of blood loss… or his mind is breaking down. One or the other.”

“I don’t see Cassidy.”

“He does,” Price’s voice tightens, “he sees what he wants to see.”


	6. The Smallest of Hopes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he's there, maybe he isn't.

** [Cassidy POV] **

Roach stuffs his face with the last bit of cookies in the house and probably the last bit he’ll have for a long time. I take another sip from my water, convincing Griggs of doing anything was a hard task. In the end, he saw that I needed help and that’s all he ever needed to know. I just hope he knows how to disable tracking. Glancing up when Roach sit down in front of me, offering the last cookie. He figures he knows the unlikely hood that they lived and has been trying to cheer me up. “You eat it, Gary,” I smile.

“Are you sure?” He holds the cookie between both of his middle, index fingers and thumbs.

“I’m sure, you like them more than I do anyway.”

Fighting to make eye contact with me, he searches for something in mine. Something to tell him they’re okay and we’re going to make it to them in no time. But we’re not going to them. I don’t know if they’re okay. “Alright…” he nibbles away on it.

Ghost comes down the stairs, “Everyone got everything?”

The small group of us nods, not like there’s much we can take. We took everything we could from Makarov’s safe-house, which was pretty much a stockpile of ammunition and guns. Other than that, we had nothing. Archer nods, “Yeah, are you sure this Kamarov man will be there?”

“I don’t know,” they want honesty, “he could or couldn’t be. The only one who knew how to get ahold of him was Price.”

The room falls silent at the mention of either Price or Soap’s name. I know we all think they’re gone, but the smallest part of me says they’re fine. I _will_ see them again, but not for the moment. Toad messes about with the TV in the kitchen again, something he’s been trying to get to work since we got here. The high pitched sound of an old TV turning on catches out attention. “See!” He exclaims, “I knew I could get it to work!”

But did we want it to work? All throughout the channels are either sounding high screeching sounds – telling people where to go as the crisis starts. The other… We flip through and we actually find one in English. We’re all in some kind of stunned state as we read that they found Shepherd’s body. At the same time, I see Ghost turn to me as he finishes reading what was on there. They found a massive amount of blood that wasn’t Shepherd’s… Unsure of who it belonged to, but we know it was either Soap’s or Price’s. Or both.

I feel Ghost grip my shoulder tightly, this numb feeling seeping through me. There was enough blood to be sure one of them was gone. If it was a mixture… I shake my head, I can’t think about that now. I have to focus on the only thing I can. We have to stop Makarov. We have to kill him. The sound of a pave-low landing the open field outside catches my attention.

 

My hand grips a P90 as I look out the window to make sure it’s Griggs. They step out, I think it’s him. Since the last time I saw him, he’s buffed up a bit more and has _way_ more facial hair than that little mustache thing. Slowly inching the door open, I step out. “Strapped to see me?” Yeah, that’s him alright.

Ghost and Roach follow out after me, holding their own weapons. “Did you turn off the tracker?”

“Of course, what’s with all the guns?”

“We have to make sure you didn’t come with company, mate.” Ghost reassures.

“Man, that dude sounds a bit like Gaz.”

I chuckle as I walk up to him, hugging him tightly. “How’ve you been?”

Griggs holds me back, “Better than you, I’m sure.”

The other four begin to load what we have into the pave-low. Ghost, Roach and I stand in front of Griggs. He glances over my head, towards the house. I think expecting to see Soap or Price. Maybe in his deepest of minds, perhaps Gaz. “How was it learning how to fly one of those things?” Roach asks, breaking the silence.

“My Captain figured I should learn, said I’d be good at it. Turns out, I really am. Wish I had learned sooner, these things are fucking amazing!” He grins, but looks down at me. “What about Soap and Price? Do you know where they’re at?”

It feels like a stab to the heart, “We just saw on the Telly that they killed Shepherd, but…” I stop, I don’t want anyone to hear my voice break.

Ghost clears his throat, “There was a lot of blood that wasn’t his. Which means, it’s either one of theirs or both. We don’t know. There’s a high possibility that one of them is dead.”

“Macy… I’m so sorry.”

“Macy?” Roach raises his right eyebrow.

“Her last name.”

“Then shouldn’t it be Mack-E. Not Mace-E?”

“I’m original, what can I say?”

I climb in the passenger seat of the pave-low, “C’mon, we’ve stuck around here for as long as we can. We have to go.”

They nod, Ghost and Roach climb in the back. Griggs takes his spot as the driver, “So, Kamarov?”

“That’s all I got,” I look at him, “he’s all that’s left.”

We get off the ground and it’s quiet for a bit. Up here and back there. There isn’t much to say at this point and I think everyone is taking in what we’ve learned. I feel like I’m going to vomit, but that could just be from the airsickness. I always get a bit queasy in these things and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.

For the first time in a few days, I let my mind wander over to Price and Soap. Something I had forbade it to do. Looking out the window, I’m praying for something to tell me they’re alright. That it was just… a mix up. Anything. I’d take a bar of soap or a receipt hitting me in the face right now as a sign. I don’t get anything.

Price, he’s lived through more things than I could ever explain. What if his time was up? What if this was the last time the universe would let him slip away, unscathed? I’ve known him for twenty-two years and he’s gone missing a few times. He lived. He always lived. Even when my dad was sure he was gone, he came back. Like a cockroach, my dad would say. Nuclear war couldn’t kill him, but I don’t think we’re too far from that.

Soap… I’ve been through more shit with him than anyone else. He was there when I thought my dad was gone… He and I have seen more things than we should have. Part of me thinks I need him, but the other part refuses to think that. But as long as I’m being honest with everyone, I should be honest with myself. A big part of me needs him. I think I always have. Even when he was that scrawny little Sergeant…

“You think they’re fine?” Griggs breaks the silence.

“I want to believe they are, I really do… The likelihood is very low and my mind doesn’t know what to do with that.”

“What about your pops, huh? Get ahold of him?”

“I can’t until this dies down a bit, too much heat surrounding him. Unless they told him I’m dead, but I don’t know what was said about me. Seems they’re more focused on Price and Soap at the moment.”

“I get it… The plan?”

I look at him, “We get to Kamarov and then we start going after the root of all this. Makarov.”

“That little asshole is who started all this?”

“Precisely.”

“Damn. What if Kamarov isn’t there?”

“I don’t know… I just… I’m not my father, okay? I’m not Price. I’m not Soap. I have no idea what I’m fucking doing, to be honest.”

“Whoa, slow down there. I wasn’t saying you were. You’ll get the hang of it eventually, you have that MacMillian blood flowing through you. You dad is one crazy motherfucker, you know?”

“Yeah… I know, but I feel like I need to be doing more. They’re losing hope back there.”

“All we can do is get to Kamarov, hoping he’s there and then we start for Makarov. Make him pay for everything he has caused. That’s all we got.”

I return my eyes to the window, wanting this all to be over already. For Makarov to be dead and everything back to the way it was. But there’s no going back. Soap and Price, they’re either on their own and both dead. They say they’re dead, but I can’t believe anything the news says anymore. Not since we’re apparently the bad guys. Please.

Things will never be the same again and I hate that. I want to be with back on base with everyone, none of this even happening. All because of greedy men, all because of some grouchy fuckers. Our world is never, ever going to be the same.

Ghost makes his way towards up, sitting down between us. “Any plan if Kamarov is gone?”

I shake my head, “No, you got any ideas?”

“Well, we’ve got weaponry, we’ve got a pave-low, and we’ve got eight, highly trained soldiers. We could go after Makarov on our own if we have to. Either way, that fucker is going down. If it’s the last thing I do, he’s going down.”

“No UMPs, no UAVs, no UGVs, no aerial support whatsoever. Makarov has to have some.”

“Over-rated.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Just tryin’ to make you laugh.”

It becomes quiet again, there wasn’t much to talk about. Our group was broken up, we’re on our own. Even after Makarov is dead, then what? Half the world believes we’re in the wrong, even if we bring his head on a platter. Would they let us be on our way? Just let us have our lives back? There’s no way to tell.


End file.
